Time To Shine: Pure Blood Money
by Lost-in-wonderland-with-Alice
Summary: Rated MA for Violence, Captivity and VERY Adult themes/ The war is seizing on, Vodemort orders Draco Malfoy to obtain information through torture and captivity/DM-HG.. . Please do review!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: My name is not J.K Rowling and I do not own the rights to the characters from the original Harry Potter series…. Although if I did, I most likely wouldn't be so stressed about this months electric bill O.o The plot and wording of this fic are mine…Therefore it would be best if you didn't plagiarize my work… If you do, I suggest that you hide it and hide it well.  
Author's note: I'm just going to let you know now that I plan on using many author's notes. Sorry if this bothers you, but I feel the need to be witty and sarcastic more often than not. Also, I don't have very much faith in the intelligence of the planet, so I feel I have to explain lots of things and draw pictures for some of the things I say (or write in this case). I will do my best to keep my notes short. Another thing that I will apologize for in advance is my overabundant use of…'s and probably most of the time they are uncalled for and might irritate you, but (for lack of better cheesy line) I feel the need … the need for speed.  
-Sighs- and…. On with the show….

DISCLAIMER: WARNING! THIS STORY IS RATED MA FOR STRONG ADULT THEMES AND CONTENT. FROM HERE ON OUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED… PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION AND ENJOYMENT…………………

My Beta is a fantastic lady by the name of Tonii

Some people use their divine love of literature and writing to turn it into a muse of sorts, as maybe a career for themselves. I merely use my passion in writing as an outlet and an escape for the world that we live in.

Since I was as young as my freshmen year in high school, I knew that writing was a creative outlet that I would and could use as a safe ground, a happy place for lack of better term….

…However…

I also have an uncanny ability to never follow through with ideas that I believe will bring me happiness…so as a chance for me to finish an idea and a dream that I have held onto for years I will, come hell or high water finish this fic.

I cannot do so with out such an amazing beta as Tonii, whom without, you wouldn't be able to make sense of the rants, tangents and scribbling that I fling onto paper.

Thank you Tonii, .net/u/1854106/ 3

* * *

Prologue to the disaster that shall now be known as Time to Shine

Hermione awoke to an annoying tapping noise outside. She stumbled out of bed and dragged herself to the window. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon, not yet ready to rise, much like Hermione who was struggling with the lock on her window. After a one sided struggle, she got it open and took the envelope from the owl, who wore an expression of annoyance. Hermione ripped the seal to the envelope and unfolded the parchment. She was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes as the dawns light danced its way through the window pane and onto the warm rug on the floor next to her bed.

Miss Hermione Granger,

The purpose of this letter is to enlighten you of our concern for your future. Here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry we would like to promote successful and meaningful futures for our students. Your outstanding success thus far at Hogwarts is just a minor clue as to what may happen in your future. With respect to this we are providing sessions this year with your head of house to help you decide what career you may want to pursue after Hogwarts. We hope you will attend as we feel this will benefit you.

We are well aware of the current situation regarding a certain dark wizard, but we still insist on Hogwarts being a safe environment for our students.  
We are looking forward to your return in September,

-Professor M McGonagoll*

Hermione let out a small sigh of protest and tossed the parchment in the trash bin. She walked over to her window and stared out at the pink and orange sun creeping over the rooftops in the far distance. Birds were perched on the telephone wires and there were very few cars on the road at this early hour. 

There was condensation gathering around the inside of her window, letting Hermione know that the weather was getting colder and that, summer was almost over. As soon as the school year began she would be sneaking off to join Ron and

Harry in their hunt for the tools to bring down Voldemort.  
She would rather have left with them earlier but she wasn't planning on letting her parents know that she would not be returning to Hogwarts, for fear of their worries and protests. A twinge of regret ate away at her stomach as she considered the letter.

She had always planned to make a successful name for herself. She just never pictured things the way they were panning out. Instantly she was plagued by a feeling of guilt at the selfishness of her thoughts.

Harry Potter had been Hermione's best friend since that day in first year when they had faced the troll together. 

Ron and Hermione had been through every obstacle that had faced Harry Potter and fought by his side every time without question. She surely wouldn't stop now, just because she had a selfish desire to complete school.

She was, however, very nervous that her participation in the war would compromise her ability to make a name for herself as anything other than Harry Potter's best friend after the worst fights had been fought. She sat on the edge of her cozy twin bed and gazed out the window and, soon, out of focus as well. Hermione didn't want to focus on anything for too long, because in her state she would probably feel worse then she already did.

"What time are you going to be back?" Mrs. Granger asked as she wiped up a dab of bronze toe nail polish that had trickled down her foot.

"I shouldn't be too late tonight, but I have to run to the library to research the properties of the Seytar root I was telling you about," Hermione said, stringing a pale olive coloured scarf around her neck. "God knows how long that could take. I spent three hours going through textbooks this morning and all I was able to find out was that it aids in the recovery of snapping turtles fallen ill with the flu," Hermione sighed and wore the best exasperated expression she could muster.

"Not exactly the thrilling information I was hoping to find…" Hermionie's words trailed off into nothing as she gathered up a faded suede satchel and a tumbler full of hot, sweetened tea.

"I won't stay up," Her mother nodded to Hermione as she walked out the door,

"Don't have too much fun with your nose in a book Hermione…"

"I can't help it you know," Hermione poked her head back into the doorway, "Harry needs my help…Duty calls and all that..." Hermione trailed off.

By now the sun's light had trickled away, and the sky was glistening in the rays of the full moon. Hermione locked the door behind her and walked down the cobblestone road. Her hand was in her pocket, instinctively grasping her wand. The chances of anything out of the ordinary happening in her muggle hometown were slim, but Hermione didn't want to take the risk of falling victim to a surprise attack.

The more she thought about how close she was to Harry, the more she thought that it was likely that a death eater could be hiding around any corner. With the times as they were, and the awareness of Voldemort's rise, Hermione was taking every precaution she felt necessary to avoid defeat. Her six years at Hogwarts had taught her, more than anything else, to always be on your feet and never be surprised.

The wind fluttering into her face was chilling her to the bone, even though she had bundled up heavily before leaving her parents' home.

The traffic in the streets had almost stopped and Hermione couldn't see any other proof of life as she walked down the quiet, empty street. It was hard to believe that there was such a violent war taking place when the world was so still and silent. People in this world always smiled and acknowledged other peoples existence. The wizarding world had become a place where your eyes were always fixed on the floor or in front of you. The friendliness had faded out as the war unraveled.

Hermione sighed inwardly as she turned a corner and walked into the shop next to the library. Hermione walked to the back of the store and picked up a copy of the daily post and a ripe red apple, but, on the way to the counter to pay for her items, she bumped into a man in the fruit aisle and dropped everything in her hands.

"I'm so sorry sir, I guess I should have been paying a little more attention." Hermione said quietly as she gathered up her things off the floor.

"Especially with the way our world is changing." Came the man's sharp reply, his words laced with an Eastern European accent.

Hermione's head jerked up and she stared at the man. He was slightly taller than Hermione, with a long raven ponytail. He was dressed in a crisp, navy suit and had an air of importance about him, as though used to being noticed. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in question; her mouth was still slightly agape at his words.

The stranger chuckled wryly and turned on his heel before Hermione even had the chance to question his comment. Maybe, she thought, she had taken his words a bit too seriously. But it had almost seemed as though he was subtly hinting to his presence in the wizarding world. This might have not been such a big deal, but Hermiones' parents lived in a muggle town, far away from anything associated to the wizarding world.

Hermione shrugged as she gathered her now bruised apple, and paper. She was starting to let her fears and worries affect her, and was not prepared to let that become full-blown paranoia. She took a deep breath and walked to the counter with her head held high.

This day felt like most others at this time of year. The sun was just setting, its rays blanketing the horizon in a warm glowing light. The temperature would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the chilly breeze that was dancing in from the west. It was late in the summer but you could still smell the crisp scent of fresh cut grass. The birds had hushed their harmonious singing for the night, and the rush of cars on the street had slowed to a lull. 

Tonight was the night that Hermione would be leaving the comfort of her mother's home and going to the Burrow for the last two weeks of summer.

Hermione just couldn't help but feel like something about it wasn't quite right.

**. . .**


	2. Chapter one

**______________**A quick note from the author:_______________  
Ah, yes there was something I wanted to say…  
This story is going to progress into some sort of nasty. Please do not forget that the story is on the verge of something very dark and I want to take a moment to highlight some things…

This story will not ever be fluffy. It will not be love-y, dove-y, kiss-y, or hug-y. So if you can't stomach violence, rape and captivity then I think it is about time that you search for a different sort of story.  
My goal is not, and never has been to offend anyone. This story is frankly just catering to a certain kind of audience, and those people know who they are. I do not want to be bothered with reviews from people expressing their concern that I lighten up or go easier on the characters, or that I make certain characters be nice to each other.

It is what it is. If you don't like it, then don't bother reading it. Please, also save us both some time and don't leave reviews about my morality due to the content of the story, you'll be wasting your own time, and mine.

And to my amazing beta Tonii….Thank you for putting all the puzzle pieces together… and so quickly too…you should get an Emmy or something…**  
**

______________________________________________________  
Time to Shine

Chapter One

Hermione had become so accustomed to seeing the Burrow swimming with excitement and buzzing with activity that the shock of seeing it like this froze her in her own tracks. Everything was still and silent. The pictures on the walls seemed faded. The lights didn't even seem to burn as brightly as they normally did. The leaves were not even making the same rustling sounds as they dropped from the trees around her. The Burrow and its surroundings looked desolate and abandoned. If someone saw the Borrow for the first time they would have been shocked to learn that this place was a loving and comfortable home where so many people had grown and so many lives had been lived.

When Hermione arrived she and Molly were the only souls in the Burrow. Arthur was at work, doing everything in his power to make sure that his job was never in jeopardy. Fred and George were attending to their booming business. Ginny had left early to pick up school supplies with Ron.

Mrs. Weasley was exceptionally quiet and out of sorts. She was and always had been a proud witch that had always done everything in her power to make sure that her family and loved ones were safe and tended too. It wasn't until now that Hermione was easily able to see the strain on her face or the stress that took dominance in her eyes. This war was breaking her down just like everyone else. Everybody's spirits had been low lately. When you walked the streets of the wizarding world it seemed that there was a damper on the day, every day.

With the world at the hand of a great war, the people had become scared and fearful. The world of magic no longer held the same magic, so to speak.

Children were watched closely by their parents and friends and families, and this became more apparent as the war raged on. It was sad to see the world in such a way. This was Hermione's motivation to bring Voldemort down. He had done this to the world. He had taken the color and carefree fun out of the world that Hermione had come to cherish so dearly. It was here, in this world, that Hermione was meant to shine. She was a somebody and she refused to let Voldemort take that away from her. The sheer bold rage that Hermione hushed deep inside of her being, scared her to the very core. She was filled with rage and the desperate need for vengeance. So many good people had died at the hands of Voldemort. So many innocent families had been torn apart by his actions.

Hermione had always been quite reserved, an idealist, a matter of fact sort of person. She processed information and would always analyze the situation at hand by reviewing the facts. In times like these the calm demeanor that she presented the world with was useless. In times like these she must always think like the Death Eaters themselves. She must always be on her toes. For it was likely the Death Eaters acted on pure impulse and never stepped back to evaluate things the way that Hermione did. She would have to stop thinking like a student still learning magic and start thinking like someone dedicated and loyal to destruction.

Hermione was hell bent on bringing him down and bringing back the light and happiness that she fell in love with, when she was introduced to the wizarding world.

On the other hand, she had a burning passion for a personal battle to fight as well. Tom Riddle's pure blood followers had always displayed their hatred for Muggle born wizards and witches. Hermione had always pushed as hard as she could to do the very best that she could in everything that she did. More often than not Hermione was, in fact, the best at what that she did. This was of no consequence to those of pure blood. The fact that Hermione outshone every other student her age meant nothing to the families that liked to flaunt a pure blood name and mentality. These were the Witches and Wizards that believed only those of pure blood should be allowed to walk the wizarding world. Hermione would fight to prove that Muggle born people were not only fully capable of being great, but that they could aid in overthrowing the people that believed purebloods should rule.

Night had fallen quickly and Hermione had made it no further into the house than the kitchen, fixing herself a cup of tea and curling up by fire. Ron stood in the doorway looking in on Hermione. She was in a state of dreaming, just on the edge of sleep. Her intentions on sitting down here were to think and start to devise a plan. She was tired and overwhelmed though, and this reduced her to closing her eyes, and let herself fall into a dream.

A few stray curls had fallen from her ponytail and snaked around her face. She was curled up in an oversized armchair, her legs tucked up to her chest. A light blanket had been tugged over her body. In this dream state Hermione wore a look of stillness and contentment. This time of being nearly asleep, lost in a dream world, was the only time anyone was ever able to escape the world around them.  
Every once in a while her eyes would flutter under the lids, as the light from the fireplace danced across her face. She looked like an angel, Ron couldn't help noticing. He sat on the edge of a chair facing Hermione, where he would remain until she awoke.

Ron sighed to himself and gazed into a mug of tea that was slightly burning his palms. He was scared. He was scared for himself, and his family, and for his best friends. He was scared for the world. He pondered the possible outcomes of the war. The very thought of their side being unsuccessful was almost unbearable. The thought of losing his best friend, Harry Potter, was unbearable…

The thought of losing Hermione was unbearable.

He was almost glad to leave school. Fred and George left school in their sixth year and Ron was green with jealousy at their effortless transformation into success. They were flourishing and living out their dreams. Ron was sick of the struggle to keep his grades above the water. He desperately wanted the chance to get out into world, to be in the middle of things, to prove himself in this war. Finally he would have the chance to show the world that he was more than just Harry Potter's sidekick, that he was capable of way more than most people thought he was. He would no longer let the fears that had tormented him in the past affect him now. He knew, too, that there was an immense pressure on his shoulders to be great and help in the fight to bring down Voldemort. It would look as though he and his friends had fled school until he, Harry and Hermione resurfaced to finally go head-to-head with Voldemort. In the aftermath of the war everyone would realise what great work Ron had done to help Harry release the world from Voldemort's grasp.

For years he had watched his mother and father and all the people that were close to his family and the Order of the Phoenix. They all gave off a sense of complete confidence and utter power. Their bravery and might were never wavering. Ron wanted people to see him in that light.

It was time for him to man up to the task at hand. Come the end of the summer he would be embarking on a journey that called for everything he could give. There was no time for him to be scared of what could happen. No time to be scared of the Death Eaters, or what could possibly become of him. There was only time to conquer and defeat. There was only one week before Harry would arrive at the Burrow and the three of them would devise a plan of attack. One week and their journey would commence. There would be no time for anything but focus and determination.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she smiled at the sight of Ron staring into a mug.

"Ronald." She whispered. Ron's head shot up in response to her soft voice.

"Hey Mione." He smiled and leaned over to meet her hugging embrace halfway.

There was silence for a few moments.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked Ron, her gazed captured by the flames in the fireplace that were dying out as the wood slowly turned to ash.

Ron opened his mouth as if to answer her, then shut it again.

"I suppose there's no way of really preparing ourselves, it's such an unknown that we're facing... We just have to do it." She said distantly.

**…**

**_**

**_**

"Do you really think that a group of inexperienced and naive students will stop me?" Voldemort hissed into the face of the short balding man that stood before him. He put a particularly unpleasant emphasis on the word students.

"I think it would be a good idea to consider the fact that Harry Potter is much wiser than we have anticipated in the past." The man all but shook as he spoke. It was almost as if he was afraid to even so much as look into the eyes of Voldemort. That was how most of his followers talked to him, avoiding eye-contact at all costs. It was always better to show their submission and look down then to stare at him in his blank, soulless eyes. There were few that were brave enough to look into those depths.

"Get out of my sight you fool. Don't ever, for one second of your pathetic existence, think that you know more than I do, or that you know better than I do. Do you think I got where I am by sheer luck or guess-work?" He spat onto the floor in front of the man that shook before him.

The man scurried toward the door. Voldemort cleared his throat, issuing one final command.

"Send the young Malfoy boy in, you unworthy vermin."

Only mere moments after the balding man had fled the room, Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway, waiting for Voldemort to instruct him to enter the room proper. There were low, dull candles suspended from iron platforms ever few yards. The ground beneath their feet was dirty and spotted with age.

"Come to me." Voldemort ordered in a quiet hiss, his words echoing around the

chamber. Draco took a deep breath before he strode over to Voldemort, showing he was full of confidence and no fear.

"My lord." Draco said as he approached. He respectfully bowed his head to

Voldemort, who considered him with a look of curiosity and mild interest.

"Are you ready to execute your orders Malfoy?" Voldemort said, taunting him, his tone suggesting his belief that Malfoy couldn't handle the pressure of the task the he had been ordered to carry out.

"I'm ready, my lord." Draco firmly stated, his voice assured and unwavering.

"You do understand the importance of the task that I have chosen for you to conduct, Malfoy? Because if not, I will find someone better qualified to deal with the little mudblood." Voldemort whispered. He began to circle Malfoy, eyeing him head to toe. He was hoping he could find something wrong with the boy that was doing a good job of keeping his cool, and that approached him with deference and honour, and without the fear that most of his other followers showed.

"I understand, and I swear to you, my lord, that you will not be disappointed with my performance. I'm not like most of the others engaged with your cause." Draco said, his head held high, adding a smirk to his words. "I will carry out your orders as the most important of tasks." Voldemort nodded once to show his acceptance.

"Be sure to gain the information I require before you have your... fun." He said, locking his eyes on Draco's. The moment that Voldemort's gaze met his Draco felt hopeless and void of any euphoria at the prospect of the task in hand. It seemed that everything good he had ever known had faded away into nothing, by simply looking into the depths Voldemort's eyes.

"Yes, my lord." He choked out as Voldemort broke the eye contact. With a look the dark lord dismissed Malfoy from his presence.

Draco had plans to set in motion, information to gather, and a mudblood to capture. This would be his time to shine in the eyes of Voldemort and his father. He would make a name for himself as an undefeatable Death Eater, the Dark Lord's right hand man. Someone not to be fucked with.


	3. Chapter two

A/n: So I just want to apologize in advance for the fact that my updates might be a little spaced out because of my stupid busy life…I literally work 12 hour shifts six days a week…and I travel for work so on my only days off I am usually driving. I am still in it for the long run though and I do plan on finishing this fic by Christmas time…it may not be Christmas time this year, but still. I know that is it uber cliché for writers to beg for reviews but, I have to do it…

PLEASE DO IT! I live for them, and it is really nice to hear peoples input and it feels really good to hear praise for my hard work!

Disclaimer: I am obviously not the original owner of anything that has to do with Harry potter or his little school friends…or foes in this stories case. The characters are not mine, and if I had created them most likely I would not be writing fanfiction….though I am still to this day almost positive that J.k probably reads, if not writes dirty Harry Potter smut…and if she doesn't, there is still a decent possibility that she at least fantasizes about some of her characters getting it on…and J.K if you are out there, you had better be rooting for Draco.

And last but certainly not least thank you to the worlds best beta…she even tweaked this while moving house AND training a naughty puppy! *mocking fancy announcer voice* And the beta of the year award goes to Tonii! Chapter Two

The sun shone through the window and onto her face, causing her eyes to flutter open. Her pupils dilated, and the sting brought tears to her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the bright light that was flooding the room. The smell of sweet rolls hung in the air, testament to the fact that Molly was up and preparing breakfast for everyone in The Burrow. Most of the Weasleys were no doubt planning on going out and enjoying the last few days of summer, but Hermione could not entertain the idea of joining them due to the list of tasks she had to accomplish before she departed with Harry and Ron. Ginny was aware of the plans the three had made, but had sworn to them that she wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone. It was imperative that they were able to keep their plans secret, because if anyone were to find out what the trio had planned it was almost guaranteed that they would attempt to stop them.

Hermione rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, doing her best to prepare herself for the busy day she had ahead of her. Looking in the mirror, she noticed the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, caused by too much worrying and not enough sleep. She swallowed any traces of self pity and sighed in resignation. The morning always came much faster than Hermione was prepared for, and another ten minutes in bed would have been ideal. But ten minutes would have turned to twenty and Hermione couldn't put off the day, no matter how much she had been dreading the pressure that the research was putting her under; it was research she had been doing all summer and despite hours with her nose in a book, and all the notes she had made, it was still not complete and there were already too few days left. She reminded herself that the great were great because of the way they performed under pressure. Hermione was just now realizing that everything was happening so quickly and before she knew it they would be off and once they'd embarked on this seemingly impossible journey there would be no time to pause or turn back. This was all or nothing and Hermione had no choice but to give it her all.

She dried her face off and applied a thin layer of mascara to her already thick and curly lashes. She pulled on some beige shorts and a cobalt collared shirt, gathered her satchel and headed downstairs.

"I'm at my wits end Ronald, it has been eighteen years and you still leave your dirty wash lying on the floor! Is it too much to ask for you to put it in the wash bin?" Molly nagged Ron as she drizzled a creamy sugar syrup over the sweet rolls.

Hermione padded in and took a seat next to Ginny, smiling to herself at the familiar feeling in the room. It was almost as if nothing bad was happening in the outside world. Everyone in the room was smiling, and it made little sense to Hermione but it almost felt nice hear Molly chastising her son, as everyone in the room sniggered behind their hands.

"Found it," Hermione mumbled while she grabbed around impatiently for her pen. She bit down on her lip as she scanned the words on the page of the book open in her lap. She blinked, as she processed the information she was taking in, the library's dim light casting a yellowing glow over the text that was on it thrilled Hermione to her very core. She had been searching for weeks for this one small paragraph.

_Seytar root is most commonly used for almost instantaneous healing, and has the powers to deal with almost any ailment. It is particularly popular for use during battles. Although it has many uses it is not an easily acquired substance. The Seytar root is not publicly available because of its dangerous properties. Pure juice from the Seytar root is invariably fatal, so most do not dabble or experiment with its uses. When the Seytar root is finely ground up it produces a thick blue syrup and when mixed with the same quantity of mortuus vir ornus (more commonly known as dead man's ash), it can be used to heal potentially deadly ailments. _

"_Dead man's ash_:" Hermione stared at the page, desperately trying to remember if she had ever dealt with dead man's ash. "Bloody Hell, what _is_ dead man's ash?" Hermione whispered hoping no one was taking note of the conversation she was having with herself."Dead man's ash is the ash of the bark from a Yellow Horn tree. It is a very rare tree, not many have ever had the pleasure of finding one." Hermione looked up, surprised by the answer that came from a voice that she had surely heard before. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the man that stood before her. It was the man that she had bumped into in her parent's muggle town while buying her copy of the daily post.

She tilted her head to study him. He was now in loose fitted blue jeans and a jade and cream colored sweater. "Who are you?" Hermione came off a little more brash then she had hoped. She was alarmed by his presence which was menacing in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"That's neither here nor there." The man said as he looked down his nose at her. "What does seem to matter, however, is what such a pretty young girl like you is doing nosing around for information about dead man's ash." The words he spoke seemed innocent on the surface, but some underlying note made Hermione's skin crawl. She shivered slightly, hoping he didn't notice her moment of weakness.

"You are aware, of course, that Dead man's ash is associated with dark magic?" The man just hinted at it being a question.

"I'm not looking to use it for dark magic," She shut the book in front of her when she saw his eyes lingering on it, as if he was trying to read the contents. "Who are you?" Hermione repeated, her voice stronger now.

"My name is Sebastian, and I think it's about time that I'm not here." He turned on his heel and left. Hermione shook away her confusion and was annoyed at the mysterious man's second unnerving exit, following their second conversation which had been equally as odd and awkward as the first.

She gathered her things together in a haze and quickly left the magical public library.

"So what you're saying is that all we have to do is mix it up and it will cure anything that

happens to us?" Ron said, with a furrowed brow.

"Not quite," Hermione stared off into the distance of the darkening countryside that surrounded the burrow. "It's more like you can temporarily heal yourself quickly but it wouldn't solve the problem permanently."

Hermione thought back to the information she had come across earlier in the day but she couldn't stop picturing the mysterious man from the library, and considering the implications of his two appearances to her in recent days. She wondered to herself if it would be a good idea to bring this up to Ron. After a moments consideration she decided against it. It would be better to not overload Ron, she knew that it would only stress him out and that was the last thing she wanted to do before they left.

"Hermione," Ron said as he pushed her shoulder a bit. She looked up into his eyes and blinked them into focus, "Are you alright? You just zoned out there for a few minutes, almost like you couldn't even hear me."

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I am just a little..." she hesitated, grasping for the right word, "drained."

"Maybe you should go to bed for a bit, you need your rest. Harry will be here before we know it, and as soon as he is it'll be crunch time." Ron said as he got up and turned toward the burrow.

Hermione didn't follow him, staying sat where she was, digging the end of a pointed stick into the soft earth beneath her. "You coming?" He finally asked after watching her for a few seconds.

"I think I'm going to stay out here for a little while and clear my thoughts before I go to bed." She finally looked up into his eyes, only to realize how vulnerable and fragile he looked in the dim twilight. "Sleep well though, I'll see you in the morning."

The field in front of her faded out of focus as she stared blankly at it. Eventually the world faded out of focus in her mind as well.

In time she couldn't focus on anything but the bitter wind that was tangling her hair and chilling her to the bone. She could go inside, but she was lost in a daze of sorts that had her planted in the same spot she had been in since before Ron left for the comfort of his warm bed.

A loud shattering noise jolted Hermione to awareness. She frantically scanned the edge of the field, squinting her eyes to make out what had caused the earsplitting noise that she had heard. Surely, she thought, the entire burrow would be awake by now. She turned around to stare up at the house. None of the lights were being turned on and there were no sounds coming from inside. Hermione got the chills as she turned around and stared back out over the field. Hermione watched a group of shadowy figures approach quickly. Too quickly. This was no social visit. Something was happening, and this unsettled Hermione. She ducked down and did her best to hide her location. She was terrified that the group that was fast approaching were nothing but trouble, but she didn't want to so much as move because it would do nothing but alert the intruders to her whereabouts. She wasn't far from the front door but she just couldn't risk it. After what seemed like an eternity the group made their way into Hermione's view.

Death Eaters. There were six of them, and Hermione was paralysed with fear as she frantically reached into her pocket for her…

It was gone, her wand was gone. It wasn't in her pocket as it always was, and she silently cursed to herself when she remembered that she had left it in her day robes, which were upstairs in the guest room she always stayed in. Three of the Death Eaters approached

The Burrow, and the other three spread out around the edge of the field. Hermione moved backward slowly, staying crouched down as low as she could, trying her best not to make any noise.

Hermione felt powerless to alert the Weasleys to the unwelcome visitors. She had two options, either she could hide and pray that they did not find her, or she could run through the field and pray that they didn't hear her, or worse yet, catch her. For the moment she watched silently as the Death Eaters examined the windows on the ground floor, obviously looking for a way in.

Hermione held back tears, watching them and hoping that they weren't able to find a way in. After what seemed like an eternity a light flicked on, and Hermione's heart dropped. One of the masked Death Eaters whispered something to another, and they crawled into a recently tugged open window.

Hermione backed up quickly toward the field, keeping her eyes on the three robed figures scanning the perimeter of The Burrow's grounds. She whirled around and without a backward glance took off at a run through the field. Immediately, and as she had feared, the Death Eaters were alerted to her presence by the sound of the plants and earth below her being disrupted by her frantic attempt to escape. Within seconds three of the six Death Eaters were on her trail, and Hermione was practically tripping over her own feet to ensure that she was quicker than them. She was silly to run. She already knew what was going to happen, but in her mind it made perfect, logical sense to run, because it would take some of the attention away from The Burrow and possible give the Weasleys a chance to prepare themselves for what Hermione had already seen coming. It was only seconds before a spell struck her and she landed face down in the dirt, paralyzed momentarily from the hit square in her back. A set of rough hands grabbed her arms too tightly and hauled her into a sitting position. She did her best to curl into a protective ball, but when she did the hands grabbed her chin and she was forced to look up at the mask that the Death Eater wore. She spat into the metal grimace. He back handed her across the face and she was thrown backwards into the ground. He laughed a hoarse, throaty laugh and lifted his mask, staring down at Hermione.

It was the man she had run into in the store and the library. "You" She whispered and paused for a few seconds, "Sebastian. You have been following me."

"Aw, that is _so_ observant of you, you little mudblood." He smirked down at her and put his boot on her chest and shifted his weight enough to make Hermione gasp for air.

"Perhaps you should have done something with that little bit of information slightly earlier and we wouldn't be talking right now." He looked up and nodded to another death eater that was hovering in the background, "Take her away."

That was the last thing Hermione saw before they pulled a cover over her head.


End file.
